


Don't Forget To Write

by The_Alias (Artemis_Day)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers Tower, Background Steve/Darcy - Freeform, Bingo Fill, Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky is shy, Convenient Tower Congregation, Correspondence Through Notes, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, I mean it's obviously Tony guys, Jane Foster Loves Science, Jane Foster Needs A Life, Jane's Mystery Man, Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019, Love Notes, MCU RarePairs Bingo 2019, Marvel Fluff Bingo 2020, Prompt Fill, Secret Admirer, Song Lyrics, Who Else? - Freeform, Who isn't really a mystery if you've read the ship and any of the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23857705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Day/pseuds/The_Alias
Summary: 'The tenth time, there is no note. Just him.' Jane has a secret admirer, but who could it possibly be?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Jane Foster
Comments: 12
Kudos: 63
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019, MCU RarePairs Bingo 2019, Marvel Fluff Bingo





	Don't Forget To Write

**Author's Note:**

> Written for:  
> MCU Rarepairs Bingo: Square N1- Fluff  
> Marvel Fluff Bingo: Square B2- Early Morning  
> Ladies of Marvel Bingo: Square O5- ‘Dreaming ‘bout the things we could be.’  
> Bucky Barnes Bingo: Square Y1- Secret Admirer

The first time Jane woke up to a note, it was a Tuesday morning. 

Against conventional wisdom, Tuesday was Jane’s least favorite day of the week. Mondays weren’t bad because they came after Sundays, her weekly day off as mandated by Darcy, and the therapist she started seeing after the Malekith incident. Every Monday, after twenty-four straight hours of Netflix and trying to read a normal fiction book like a normal person, she threw herself into overdrive finishing all the work she could have (should have) gotten done the day before. It was normal for her to work through lunch and dinner on Mondays, and on Tuesdays, she paid the price.

She made it to her lab at the criminally late hour of nine. A plate was in her hand as she finished her last piece of toast. She’d forgotten to leave it in the sink. Darcy waved from her station before returning to Jane’s e-mails. Why she stuck around when her internship was long over and she’d already been accepted into grad school, Jane didn’t know, but no one could say she didn’t appreciate it.

“You’ve got mail,” Darcy said.

Jane stumbled into her chair, leaving the plate on top of the garbage can for later. “Is it another fifty percent off coupon from Dress Barn?”

“You did get one of those, but I’m talking about a physical letter.” Darcy pointed at the worktable next to the door. “Right there.”

The table was mostly extra parts Jane might have use for later. A green envelope with her name on it sat on top of an old telescope she still needed to fix. Walking over, Jane picked it up. It wasn’t sealed and it felt like a greeting card inside.

“Wishing you a happy St. Patrick’s Day!” read the cover. A cartoon leprechaun next to a pot of gold gave her a thumbs up. A similar generic message was on the inside, along with a brief dedication.”

_ To Jane. Hope you have a great day. _

There was no sender.

“Darcy, who brought this?”

Darcy shrugged. “It was there when I got here. Does someone have a secret admirer?”

Jane rolled her eyes. “I doubt it, but did you know it was St. Patrick’s Day?”

“Oh yeah, I’m going out drinking with a few friends tonight,” Darcy said, her face lighting up. “You should come with! It’ll be fun.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got a lot to do today,” Jane placed the card on the bookshelf for safekeeping and returned to her desk.

“You’ve got no more to do today than you do any other day,” Darcy said. 

When Jane didn’t respond, she gave up and went back to researching her thesis. The lab slipped into silence as Jane lost herself in the familiar world of quantum physics. The card and the holiday were already long forgotten.

**

The second time, it was a Thursday. A pretty average weekday in Jane’s opinion.

She’d just gotten back from the cafeteria. They were out of strawberry cream cheese but they did have apple pecan muffins today. Jane didn’t care what Darcy said, those things were delicious!

A folded piece of lined notebook paper was taped to her door. Jane looked around the narrow, spiraling hallway. The upper levels of Avengers HQ were far less ostentatious than the lower levels. Probably because Tony realized the majority of his friends didn’t share his love for Fendi Casa and Shepard Fairey style paintings of themselves. As a result, and to promote absolute privacy, there was only one way in and out of the lab. Only one elevator leading to this floor. Jane had just made the entire trip without running into a single person.

Weird.

Unfolding the note, she found a few lines of handwritten text. 

_ ‘Lately, I’ve been losing sleep, dreaming about the things that we could be.’ _

There was more, but it had been scribbled out. Jane read the two clear lines again, feeling a twinge of recognition. She started humming, though she couldn’t find the right tune. Maybe later she’d sneak Darcy’s phone and go through her playlists. That girl had every song in existence.

She stuffed the note in her pocket and input her passcode. Not once did she feel eyes on her, nor did she see the shadow on the wall, slipping out through a secret passageway.

**

The third time, Jane concluded that she had a secret admirer.

She had found the song on her own. No need for Darcy’s help after all. It was by a band called OneRepublic, which Jane had definitely possibly listened to once before maybe. She did, at least, listen to the song. It was pretty good, though she wasn’t sure how romantic the rest of the lyrics were supposed to be.

Either way, she was still humming it the next morning when another note appeared.

_ ‘You are poetry in motion, as deep as any ocean, as sweet as any harmony.’ _

It was super poetic and touching until Jane googled the words. Then she dissolved into a giggle fit as the robotic eighties synth pop started up. 

At least it was a fitting song choice.

**

The fourth time, Jane didn’t see the note until mid-afternoon. That was because she’d taken an exceptionally rare half-day off to perform one of the most arduous tasks of her life: talking to other people.

It took her all night to justify missing the morning. Any second wasted could be the difference between conquering interstellar travel before she turned forty and miserable failure. Eventually, Jane started talking to herself as if she were Darcy.

_ ‘Social interaction is good for you, Jane.’ _

_ ‘You need friends outside of your science bubble, Jane.’ _

_ ‘When’s the last time you so much as went out for a drink with someone, Jane? You’re living like a hermit!’ _

That last one wasn’t true at all, thank you very much. In fact, Jane had made a date with a computer analyst just last month! Sure, she had to cancel at the last minute to finish sorting through data and he never called her again, but dammit, it still counted. Plenty of people found Jane attractive, including at least one person in this tower, so there. 

Everyone was in the in-house restaurant at noon. Friday was barbeque day for all Avengers and associated parties and the short ribs went fast. Jane grabbed two with some peas and carrots. Looking around, there were a few empty seats, including one right next to a certain friend of hers.

“Hey Bruce,” Jane said, setting her plate down. “You uh… get enough food?”

There were at least thirty ribs piled high on his plate. Not even Thor could eat that many. “Yeah… the Other Guy needs extra calories sometimes. I’ll probably take a few home.”

“Hey, I won’t judge,” Jane said. They ate in silence as she considered her words. “So what kind of music are you into lately?”

Bruce wiped some sauce off his lips. “Music? Not much. Nothing I don’t already listen to.”

“Like what, eighties stuff maybe?”

“I’m honestly more partial to the seventies,” he said. “My mom was a huge Bee Gees fan, believe it or not.”

“Yeah, they were good.” Jane coughed. “So uh… did you do anything special for St. Patrick’s Day?”

He appraised her like an experiment going in an unforeseen direction. “Mostly just work. I like the holiday and all, but drinking isn’t the best idea for me.”

“Right.” Jane stared at her barely touched ribs.

Looking back, she didn’t know why she ever suspected Bruce. He was shy, but not  _ that _ shy. If he was really into her, he could’ve told her any time they were consulting with each other or having their weekly Science Alliance Conference with Tony. She struck his name off her mental list and moved on to discussing the weather. 

When she got back to the lab, there was a note taped to the edge of the palm pad. More lined notebook paper. More thickly penciled words.

_ ‘Hope you’re having a good day today. You deserve it’ _

Jane grinned. Whoever this guy was, he was kind of adorable.

**

The fifth time, it was kind of sad.

Not the note itself, which she found wedged into a crack in the wall ten feet from her door, but the feeling behind it. 

_ ‘I don’t have a song today,’ _ it read,  _ ‘ but I guess I didn’t have one yesterday either. Just wanted to say you’re great. Have a good day.’ _

How strangely melancholy. 

Jane couldn’t describe how she knew it. No one would ever call her the most empathetic person, and for good reason. If even a borderline misanthrope like her could read between the lines and see the nervous hand this was written in, it had to be sob-inducing for a normal person. 

It gave Jane a great, if possibly risky, idea. She dug through her bag for one of the empty notepads she carried ‘just in case.’ Tearing out a fresh sheet, she wrote down the first thing that came to her mind.

_ ‘Don’t be sorry. I appreciate the thought. Hope you have a good day, too.’ _

She folded it up and left it in the crack where his note had been. With a satisfied smile, she continued on to her lab, her head full of the bridge.

**

The sixth time was three days later. Jane was starting to worry she’d scared her new friend off when she found a slip of paper under the decorative plant by the elevator.

_‘Sorry, this took so long. I didn’t expect you to answer, so that kind of threw me a bit. Anyway, I finished reading your dissertation last night. It was great. The bits I could understand anyway. The rest was great, too, I’m just dumb like that. You’re still really great, though.’_

It was definitely not the most well-written love note. Or was it even a love note at all? Maybe all this time, she was being stalked by some psycho obsessed fan who would one day tie her to a bed and get the sledgehammer. 

But no, she didn’t think so. The notes didn’t give her that vibe. They looked like the kind of thing she would’ve written to her crush in high school. That is, if she’d ever had the courage to do more than smile at him from thirty feet away while surrounded by people so he wouldn’t see her. 

Jane went back to her office, typed up a list of book recommendations for introductory astrophysics, and left it under the plant with a smiley face drawn in the corner. 

She almost drew a heart instead.

**

On Saturday morning, Jane spotted Clint Barton reading An Introduction to Astrophysics in the courtyard.

She tried not to look like she was staring, which probably made her look nuts as she investigated a mossy patch on the three just over his head. It was a warm, quiet day on the precipice of April. Almost everyone had taken off on weekend getaways. Even Tony had whisked Pepper away to Bermuda for the rest of the month. Of those who remained, Jane only knew Clint and Rob the doorman by name. 

Rob was already off her list. He’d been happily married to his husband for twelve years, so that seemed unlikely.

Clint… well, he was certainly handsome, but he also still had a wife and kids last she checked. If he turned out to be her mystery friend, it would pose some significant problems.

“Morning,” she said as casually as she could.

“Morning,” he muttered, turning the page.

Jane cleared her throat. “That’s a good book. I didn’t know you were into astrophysics.”

“I just grabbed it out of the lounge,” he said. “Someone left a whole bunch of science books in there. I have no idea who, but it’s interesting stuff. Who knew there were so many galaxies out there?”

“Yeah,” Jane mumbled. She squinted, trying to see through the window into the living room. It was way too bright out here.

Walking inside, she found seven more books neatly stacked on the coffee table. She read the titles. Almost every book she’d recommended to her friend was here. Several of them had bookmarks more than halfway through.

Was it weird that her heart was racing?   


**

The seventh time, it was taped to her door.

_ ‘I really like the books. Thanks for recommending them. Also, I saw your interview on The Today Show. You were amazing. Beautiful, too.’ _

Goddamn, he just wanted her to make her melt.

Jane took the note into the lab. She’d need to think about her reply for a while. In the meantime, there was a lot of fresh data to sift through and several emails she’d been neglecting to answer. 

“You’re in a good mood,” Darcy remarked as Jane turned rewriting notes on the whiteboard into a little dance.

“What makes you say that?” she asked.

“Woman’s intuition,” Darcy shrugged. “Also you’ve been grinning like an idiot for the last half hour. Kind of speaks for itself.”

As soon as she said it, Jane’s jaw started to ache. She forced her lips down and took a deep breath. “I just had a nice morning is all.”

“Did you get laid?"

Jane snorted. “No, of course not.”

“Don’t say that like it’s a good thing,” Darcy snapped, going back to her phone. “I swear, I don’t know what to do with you. Gonna have to set you up with a hot SHIELD agent or something.”

“I appreciate your concern, Darcy.” 

“Yeah, but not enough.”

She trailed off, grumbling about sticks in the mud and workaholics as she pulled out her notebook and got to writing. That was fine; she’d be at it for a few hours, leaving Jane to do her own thing with peace and serenity. Closing out her regular programs and bridge design templates, she opened a fresh Word document.

Actually, was typing her response too informal?

Eh, she’d worry about it later.

_ ‘I wish I knew what you looked like. Could you send me a picture?’ _

When she read that back it sounded awful. For sure, it was a reasonable request. Gut feeling aside, this guy could be absolutely anyone. 

Hell, he might not be a guy at all.

Jane deleted the second line and stared at the blinking cursor until her head hurt. It was like the stupid thing was mocking her. Finally, she typed something in and hit print. After five minutes of waiting, it occurred to her that she hadn’t set up her printer yet. She grabbed a notepad and copied down the message.

_ ‘I wish I knew what you were like. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?’ _

Perfect!

She waited until Darcy left for the day to tape it to the door, and went to bed excited for the morning to come.

**

The next day, there was no note.

Or the next day.

Or the next day.

By Day Four, Jane thoroughly regretted her bold request. Clearly, this man who wouldn’t even tell her his name or write anything longer than twenty-five words wasn’t going to just send her some selfies. She should’ve waited a few more weeks. Maybe asked some vague questions first to get a better feel of him. 

She was too restless to stay in the lab for more than an hour. Venturing into the common areas, she found herself in the second-floor library. It had wall to wall books, complete with a rolling ladder, several work desks, public computers, and even a reading nook by the window. Perfect for lounging after a long day of paperwork or hero-ing. Why Jane hadn’t visited until now, she didn’t know. Maybe she was becoming more social after all.

The only other person in the library was Dr. Strange. He nodded when Jane walked in and then went back to his book. Jane ran her finger along the spines like she was looking for a specific title and not just giving her hands something to do.

“Looking for anything in particular?” Strange asked after fifteen minutes.

“Er- not really,” Jane said. She grabbed a book at random. It was by James Patterson. She hated that guy. “Actually, can I ask you a question?”

“You just did,” he said with a slight smile, “but sure, go ahead.”

It wasn’t him. She was pretty sure of that, though she had yet to officially cross his name off the list. His general demeanor and apparent disinterest in romance made him an unlikely suspect. Then again, if anyone could find a way to hide notes in random places without getting caught on camera, the guy who could literally create holes in spacetime was a safe bet.

“I was just wondering… let’s say you were interested in someone, and you really wanted to talk to them, but you were nervous for whatever reason, so you found an indirect way to tell them how you feel and now they’re responding to you in kind and asking for more information that could expose your identity before you feel comfortable doing that… I mean, there’s a right way to handle this, but if you don’t know what it is or if  _ they _ don’t know, then...”

Strange blinked at her. On his face was a total lack of anything resembling recognition. “You know I’m not that kind of doctor, right?”

Jane’s shoulders slumped. “Nevermind.”

**

The eighth time was a surprise.

On what would’ve been Day Five of her friend’s radio silence, she found a note tucked into the frame of a painting on the wall across from her apartment. She nearly tore it in half in her haste.

_ ‘I want to tell you more about me, but I’m afraid you won’t like me anymore if I do. My record’s not exactly clean.’ _

Did they have any reformed bad guys at the tower? Jane wracked her brains, but she couldn’t think of anyone. A few former HYDRA spies who defected were on the other side of the country serving out the terms of their probation. Granted, this might just be how he viewed himself, not a legitimate record. When one’s job routinely involved killing people- evil or otherwise- it was going to take a toll on their psyche eventually. One of the many reasons Jane was glad to be a normie.

_ ‘I will say this, I have a very important mission coming up that I do not want to go on, but your notes and the songs that remind me of you are what keep me going. Speaking of which, I found another one last night. It’s called The Fire by The Roots. I don’t know how you feel about rap, but it makes me think of how driven you are to succeed no matter who or what gets in your way.  Is it sappy to say that you inspire me?’ _

It was, but the best kind of sappy. The kind that made Jane’s heart soar. She skipped to the elevator and pressed the wrong button twice in her glee. Darcy gave her a weird look when she walked in whistling a Disney song. She started to ask, then thought better of it and went back to browsing Facebook.

After a quick scan of her latest data, Jane pushed her notes aside and started on her reply.

**

“My boyfriend is coming over. Is that okay?”

It was midday and Jane was tinkering with an old telescope while waiting for her computer to finish installing updates. She leaned her desk chair all the way back and hummed eighties New Wave songs until Darcy’s words finally hit her. “Since when do you have a boyfriend?”

Darcy snorted. “I do have a life outside of this lab, you know. It’s pretty cool. You should try it sometime.”

Jane hummed and put the telescope down, stretching muscles that ached way more than they should’ve. When was the last time she stood up? “All right, yeah. That’s fine. Who is it? Not that pervy guy in your grad program I hope.”

“Devin? Ugh, no way.” Darcy shuddered. “Actually, he works in the tower. You’ve probably met him a couple of times.”

“I can’t say how many people here I’ve met,” Jane said. If she counted, she might need to use a couple of toes.

Five minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Steve Rogers entered the lab. Darcy immediately squealed and jumped into his arms, planting a sloppy, almost obscene kiss on his lips. Jane tried to look away, but it was proving difficult.

“Huh,” she mumbled, going back to her telescope. “Works in the tower all right.”

That was one more name off her list anyway.

_ ‘Unless…’ _ a horrible and irrational thought struck Jane. What if, by some shocking turn of events, the notes had never been for her to begin with?

“Hey, Steve, do you like Thomas Dolby?” she shouted.

Steve stopped kissing Darcy, who sent Jane a surprisingly effective death glare. “Uh… I don’t think I know his work. What kind of scientist is he?”

Oh, thank God.

“Forget it,” Jane said as her computer began to boot back up. “Don’t mind me, just go back to your business.”

If they did, Jane didn’t see it. She threw herself into typing random letters and numbers like the fate of the universe depended on it. Someone behind her whispered. Someone else was walking around. Maybe several someones. Jane shut them out with an unbreakable concentration she’d first developed in college, when she had the good fortune of getting two hard-partying and electronica loving roommates in a row. 

Eventually, she found her way back to doing actual work. There were still a few kinks to work out in the latest version of her bridge software. With any luck, she’d be here all night.

“Hey Darcy, could you grab me that notebook on top of the filing cabinet,” she asked while running through some figures in her head. “The one with the red cover, please.”

After a moment, the notebook appeared at the edge of her vision. She took it with a muted thank you and flipped through the pages. There was definitely a section in here that would be useful right now. If only she could start actually putting files in that filing cabinet.

“Could you dim the lights a little, too? I’m getting a headache.”

The light went down a notch and she nodded. “Thanks. You know, I thought you and Steve would’ve left by now.”

“They did.”

It was a male voice. Definitely not Darcy’s. Not Steve’s either. She’d heard him enough times on TV and in the lounge to know his distinctive timbre. This was not it. In fact, when Jane swirled her chair around, it was none other than Bucky Barnes staring back at her. 

He was not what she expected from his own, albeit rare, television appearances. He almost never spoke, preferring to stand behind Steve and look scary with a giant gun no normal man could’ve held. Without it, he was rather like a puppy. An extremely tall and ripped puppy, but a puppy nonetheless. Under her gaze, he seemed to shrink into himself. Hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched, head bowed, it was like he was trying to hide from her. 

Which begged the question: where had he come from?

“Hi,” Jane said, for lack of anything better. “Nice to meet you.”

He nodded. “You too. Sorry if I startled you.”

“It’s okay,” Jane said. “Did you come here with Steve?”

He nodded again. “I was just about to go. Didn’t mean to stick around for so long.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind the company. Did you want to talk about something?”

This must be what celebrities felt like meeting fans. Not that Bucky Barnes of all people was some nervous Jane Foster fanboy. That would be ridiculous...

“Whatever you want,” he said. “I mean, I’ve read about your work and it’s some amazing stuff, so if you had time, maybe later in the week or something, I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”

...or not.

“You've read my papers?” She tried to sound like she heard this all the time. 

“The ones I could understand at least,” he replied. “I was always pretty good at science, but you’re on a whole other level.”

“It’s nothing,” Jane said, blushing. Something sparked in her. A wave of familiarity she couldn’t quite place. Or perhaps she could and she just wasn’t ready to let herself. “I know some books you could read if you’re interested.”

He tensed up. “Yeah, maybe…”

It was hard to get more than a few words out of him at a time. Jane talked at length about her research and the current status of her bridge. With any luck, they’d have a working prototype by mid-summer. There was still so much to do before then. Tony’s financial support and the many leading astrophysicists she’d wrangled into helping her sped things up, but only just.

Bucky listened to every word she said, whether he understood them or not. Even if he went an hour without speaking, Jane looked at him and saw the rapt attention in his eyes. The only time he moved from his chair was to carry a heavy piece of equipment from one side of the room to the other. It was warm out and he’d chosen a short-sleeved shirt to wear. An extremely tight short-sleeved shirt that just barely contained his biceps.

“Just leave it right there,” Jane said, as he set it down. His legs weren’t even shaking. “Yeah, that’s good. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, or at least Jane thought he did. He sounded like his mouth was full of cotton balls. 

Then he was back to sitting and listening until his phone rang, letting him know it was time to head off on his mission to save the world. He shuffled awkwardly to the door like he was horribly inconveniencing her by leaving so suddenly.

“Sorry if I’ve bothered you,” he mumbled with a half-shrug.

“You didn’t,” Jane said, sitting up straighter. “I mean, you aren’t bothering me at all. You’re a good listener. I’d love to bounce ideas off you again sometime.”

His smile made her stomach flip. “Yeah… that’d be great.”

When he was gone, Jane played around with some underused programs and reorganized her desk until she ran out of things to occupy her mind.

**

The ninth time, Jane hadn’t even sent her note yet.

It was stuck in the supply closet door the morning after Bucky’s visit, just barely held in place by the hinges. The folds were lopsided and the writing messy, like it had been hastily scrawled two seconds before he left it. 

_ ‘I found another song that reminds me of you. Go here: /watch?v=Jm-upHSP9KU.’ _

The URL was taped over the written text, nearly obscuring it. Clearly a rush job, but one that was done with care. When Jane sat down at her laptop and typed in the link, she couldn’t stop laughing at the song that came up. After listening to it three more times, she took out a notepad. No need to use her draft in Word. This time, she knew exactly what to say.

**

Only three Avengers had gone on this mission. While Clint piloted the quinjet, Bucky and Natasha Romanov shot the breeze and traded gossip in Russian, or so Jane assumed. To not send the whole team, they must not have seen it as a major threat. When the trio returned to the base, victorious but barely standing, it was clear they’d underestimated this particular bad guy.

Jane heard they were back from Steve, who burst into the lab out of breath to let Darcy know he’d have to postpone their date. As he ran to the infirmary, the two women followed. They took the elevator to the next floor down and the stairs the rest of the way. If Darcy wondered why Jane was keeping pace with her, or if she was red in the face for some other reason besides the physical strain, she didn’t say anything. 

The infirmary was on the second floor. A small crowd had gathered, congesting the halls and leaving Steve to muscle his way through. Most of the assembled housekeeping staff and low-level agents knew better than to get in his way, but at least one poor soul was elbowed in the face when he failed to move in time. 

Inside was even more chaotic than out. Doctors and nurses ran back and forth between the three patients. Of them, Clint was the least injured. He had a few cuts and bruises and his left eye was swollen shut, but he was awake and cracking jokes with the doctor checking his pulse. In the bed next to him, Natasha had her arm in a cast and a sour look on her face. She tried to curl her fingers as if to strangle whatever idiot had dared put her out of commission for even a single day.

She’d be fine, though. Jane didn’t doubt that. It wasn’t Natasha or Clint who made her heart drop into her stomach. 

The bed across from theirs was covered by a curtain. A nurse stepped out, and for a brief moment, Jane could see a swollen purple face, waxy like clay, resting on a bloodstained pillow.

Her feet moved. Not even Steve was as fast. There was only one chair next to Bucky’s bed and she took it without hesitation. His hands were rough and warm, which eased her racing heart enough to breathe normally. 

“Hey, Bucky,” she said, brushing his hair away from his sweat-drenched forehead. “Can you hear me?”

The swelling was even worse up close. His nose was mangled. His unbruised skin a sickly white. Lacerations on his hands and arms made her think he’d led the charge, taking the brunt of the attack for his unenhanced teammates. Without him, they might be in the morgue instead of here recovering. That should’ve made her feel better, but it didn’t.

Bucky groaned, moving his head from one side to the other. When he tried to speak, his words came out in a jumble.

“Bucky?” Jane leaned in close. She didn’t care if Steve or anyone else was watching. “It’s me, Jane.”

“Jane…” he murmured, forcing his eyes open. They were bloodshot. “Jane… I…”

She shushed him. “Don’t talk. You need to rest.”

“I’m… sorry…”

“Please.” Jane kissed the top of his head as gently as she could. “Sleep now. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Of course, he wouldn’t. It would take at least a few more days before he was back on his feet and ready to fight again. She could imagine how restless he’d get, cooped up in a hospital bed while everyone else was out training. It would push him to want to heal faster. Hopefully not so much that his injuries would get worse. 

It would be fine, though.  _ He _ would be fine. Of that, Jane had no doubt. She waited for him to fall asleep, watching his chest rise and fall. Steve moved aside as she left the infirmary, taking her place at Bucky’s side. He’d be there all night if they let him. 

Just so long as he didn’t find the note under the desk lamp before Bucky did.

**

The tenth time, there was no note.

It was a Friday morning. Bucky had been discharged from the hospital two days ago. He spent all his time in his apartment now, where only Steve could enter to make sure his best friend was eating regularly and getting enough sleep. That left Jane to spend all her time in the lab again, drawing up figures, editing 3-D models, deleting spam emails, playing waste basketball. It was a lot less fun than it used to be.

That morning, she was up an hour late. There was no telling why her alarm hadn’t rung when her phone was fully charged. Just one of those things. 

In the short stretch of hallway, black coffee in hand, and a scalp still stinging from running a brush through her hair, she didn’t find a note. There wasn’t a sliver of paper anywhere.

Only him.

His face was mostly back to normal, the swelling was gone and the remaining bruises were superficial at best. Even his arms were unscarred. Supersoldier healing really did work wonders. He seemed to struggle to look her in the eye. One minute, she was trapped under the spell of his baby blues, the next he’d be invested in the carpet. 

Jane coughed.

He looked at her again.

No one spoke.

Finally, Jane stepped forward. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugged. “Better.”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore?”

“No.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

It might’ve been the first real conversation they ever had that wasn’t about science. Or on paper. 

“Did you get my note?” Jane asked.

His lip twitched. It wasn’t quite a smile, but close enough. He stuck a hand into his pocket and pulled out a creased piece of paper. The edges were curling like they were handled frequently. The page was so thin, Jane could see the outline of her writing as he unfolded it.

“I’m right here whenever you need me. Come back soon so you can send me another note,” he read. 

Now Jane had to shrug. “I wanted it to sound a little nicer than that, but the sad truth is I’m no writer.”

“It’s okay,” Bucky said. “Neither am I.”

“I don’t know, you’re definitely better than me,” she said.

Bucky swallowed. He opened and closed his mouth several times before he finally got the words out. “How long have you known?”

Jane giggled. “Since the day you came to visit. I wasn’t completely sure it was you, but I had a feeling I was right this time.”

“This time?” he asked.

Her face grew hot. “Don’t worry about it. The point is, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wanted to, but as we’ve already established, talking about feelings isn’t my strong suit.”

“It’s okay,” Bucky said sadly. “I’m sorry that I’m… you know.”

“That you’re what?”

“You know,” he motioned at himself as if that answered her question.

Which, in a heart-breaking way, it did. “What, handsome?” She stepped closer to him. “Funny? Kind? Smart enough to keep up with me and my rambling? Just in general a panties-explodingly sexy guy?”

Bucky choked at the last one, and Jane was torn between laughing even harder and dragging him into the lab to sit down. She’d have to thank Darcy later for that one. 

“Uh…” he stopped himself and stood up straighter. “I just meant if you were nervous or disappointed that it’s me…”

Before he could complete the thought, Jane took his hands in hers. “I am the farthest thing from disappointed, Bucky. And if I’m nervous, it’s only because of how glad I am that it’s you. There’s no one else I could’ve wanted more.”

It was as true as anything she’d ever told him, and actually not too poorly stated. Maybe she was good with words sometimes. Just at really specific and important times like this, when she was ready to write Shakespearean poetry extolling his many positive qualities until he stopped beating himself up over things beyond his control. 

“In that case,” Bucky said, digging through his pocket again, “I have another note for you. Thought I should give it to you in person”

He handed her a slip of unlined paper.

_ ‘Do you want to go out sometime?’ _

When she thought ahead, her schedule was pretty packed. She had three meetings coming up this week alone. One of them was with the current head of the World Security Council. Tony had invited her to give a speech at next year’s Stark Expo and she had to start drafting her notes. Not to mention the financial paperwork she had to look over, and then there was interviewing candidates for her bridge construction team.

All in all, it could be a month before she had any free time for dating. 

So she’d have to really get busy when next month rolled around.

“I didn’t bring a pen,” she said, standing on tiptoes, “so I’m afraid I can’t write back.”

She kissed him, and he kissed back. That was answer enough.


End file.
